


high tide brought you in (currents brought you out again)

by CerinityKS



Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:43:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5078245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CerinityKS/pseuds/CerinityKS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark Watney didn't go near the water. </p><p>But Chris Beck loved him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	high tide brought you in (currents brought you out again)

**Author's Note:**

> so i've done it, my first multi-chapter beckwatney fic. this won't be long, probably just one, two more chapters? (maybe an epilogue too idk) and the next part is already half-way written or so? so this should be updated pretty fast, here's hoping! 
> 
> anyway i hope you guys enjoy! x

Mark Watney didn’t go near the water.

It was one of those quirks about him, something everyone found strange, especially since they lived in a small fishing town right on the coast - _everyone_ went near the water, especially in the summer when the humid air tolled in and the beach was their only escape. 

As strange as it was though, it was just one thing in a long list of strange quirks that the town accepted as the makings of the semi-reclusive Mark Watney. 

It was also one of the things that made the man endlessly interesting to Chris. 

“You’re staring,” Mark smirked at him from behind the counter of the town’s only florist shop, the shop Mark had opened himself ten years ago when he was 18 and had kept running ever since. 

Chris fumbled with his wallet and blinked wide eyes at Mark, who looked so _amused_. 

“I mean, I know I’m sexy Chris, but if you keep staring like that I’m gonna have to start charging you for more than the flowers,” Mark continued to smirk and Chris flushed and had to drag his eyes away from Mark’s, quite frankly, _unfairly_ attractive mouth. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, and Mark laughed. 

“Don’t be, if there’s one thing I don’t mind it’s being stared at by _you_ ,” Mark flirted. 

“So you do mind being started at by other people?” Chris’s mouth replied on autopilot, and as soon as the words left his mouth Chris slapped a hand over his mouth and looked at Mark with wide, horrified eyes. 

The playful look Mark had been sporting had dropped into something cooler, more distant, and Chris despaired. 

‘Great going you fucking idiot,’ he berated himself mentally. 

“I- I, I’m so sorry, I didn’t-” Chris stammered, but Mark waved him off and grinned, teeth bared in a way that couldn’t be mistaken as anything but hostile. 

“Your total is $22.50, Christopher.” 

Chris swallowed and felt like a lead ball had settled in his gut as he handed over some cash. Mark rung him up silently and handed him his change before passing over the bouquet, the same type of bouquet that Chris bought bi-weekly. 

“Thank you for shopping at Blossom Menagerie, I hope you have a lovely day,” Mark intoned automatically. 

“Mark,” Chris started, but Mark shook his head so Chris just gathered his bouquet and walk out of the store. 

As soon as he was out of sight of the shop Chris stopped and pressed the palm of his free hand to his eye and groaned. 

“Great fucking going you awkward idiot, way to talk to the guy you’ve been in love with for _forever_ ,” he muttered to himself. 

Just like Mark not going near the water was something the town used to define _Mark_ , Chris’s love for Mark was something the town used to define _him_. In small town’s nothing stayed secret for long, and Chris had been in love with Mark as long as he remembered, and the town had known almost as long. It seemed the only person who _didn’t_ know was _Mark_. 

Naturally. 

Chris pitied himself for another minute before mentally kicking himself in the ass and continuing on to his original destination – the cemetery. 

It was a routine, something he did every two weeks – he’d go to Mark’s store, buy a bouquet of flowers, then go to the cemetery to place it at his parent’s grave. It was another thing the town used to define him, and something he and Mark had in common – their lack of parents. 

Mark had been found, washed up on the beach when he was just a kid, barely even seven and traumatized so badly he’d barely spoken a single work for a year. There had been a bad storm the night before, and it was common consensus in the town that Mark and his parents must have been out on the sea, god knows why, and had gotten caught in the storm. They clearly hadn’t survived, and it was only by god’s grace that Mark had and washed up on the beach of their little town. 

Chris however had lost his parents much later, when he was 17, nearly 18. Chris hadn’t been there when it happened, still didn’t even know everything, but whatever had led up to his parents’ deaths had ended in his house burning down with them still inside. 

Mark had opened his shop a few months later, and Chris had been a loyal customer ever since. 

The sky was cloudy and there was a slight breeze as Chris knelt down in front of the marker for his parents grave – the two of them buried together, in death as they had been in life. His eyes traced over the inscription on the stone – 

**Mary & David Beck**

**1963 – 2004 & 1962 – 2004**

**‘I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.**

**I do not think that they will sing to me.’**

**\- T.S. Elliot**

“Hey mom, hey dad,” he whispered. 

He shivered and reached out to trace the quote – it was an odd choice, something he had never understood, but it had been what they’d wanted on their headstone so Chris had complied. 

“Nothing much has changed since the last time we talked – still fish in the sea to catch, my internship with Dr. Marcus is still going well, and I still haven’t really talked to Mark,” Chris sighed. 

The last one was the one thing he and his parents had ever disagreed on – his parents had told him any future with Mark was hopeless, that he should set his sights elsewhere, maybe on the Johanssen girl? But once Chris made up his mind about something he didn’t change it easily, and though his parents had done their best to get Chris to change his mind, he hadn’t. It was therapeutic to talk to them about it now, even if it wasn’t something they’d normally want to hear. 

Chris stayed talking to them for another hour, rambling on about random things before taking his leave. He took the long way back to his apartment, the way that brought him by Mark’s shop, and noticed that it was closed, a bit odd, but not unheard of even this early in the day. 

Chris hoped it hadn’t been because of his comment – while Mark had been accepted as part of the town he was still undeniably an outsider, and therefore never _truly_ part of the town. Mark was an orphan, he never went near the water, he took no interest in fishing or boating, he kept to himself and didn’t speak much – basically, Mark didn’t make it easy for people to accept him, he was _strange_ , and people had stared and whispered about him all his life. It was never truly malicious – people _liked_ Mark, despite his strangeness, but it was still something that had followed him. 

Reminding Mark of that with his comment was clearly not Chris’s brightest moment. 

His apartment was as cold and empty as it always was. Chris didn’t have much in the way of worldly possessions – he hadn’t bothered much after the fire, where most of his things had been destroyed. His apartment had only the bare necessities, even after 10 years on his own. 

He flopped down on his couch, exhausted after a long day at work and an hour spent talking to his parents. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, so Chris was unsurprised to suddenly wake up hours later to find he’s passed out on the couch. It was dark out, the moon shining down brightly, and Chris groaned as he rolled off the couch, body stiff. 

“Great,” he grunted. 

His cell phone told him it was half after eleven, and he’d been asleep for over six hours already. 

“Fuck, I’ll never get back to sleep.” 

He groaned and padded over to the kitchen to flip on the meager light hanging over the stove. It flickered to life as he opened the fridge and grabbed the package of bagels and some jam to make himself a late dinner. 

He heated up some water as the bagels toasted and grabbed his can of jasmine tea. The bagel popped up as the water finished boiling and he started steeping the tea, so he grabbed it, only hissing slightly at the heat before quickly spreading the jam over it and pressing the two halves together. 

Chris glanced outside and on impulse decided to take a walk. This late at night the town would be asleep, most people going to bed early so they could get up before the sun, and it was so peaceful. Walking around town this late was something Chris hadn’t done in years (since before his parents died) but it had been something he’d enjoyed. 

A time he could have to himself, where he didn’t have to feel the weight of other people’s expectations placed on him – he could be whoever he wanted, however he wanted. 

The night air was cooler when Chris stepped outside, and he was silently thankful for the sweater he had thrown on before leaving. He took a bite of his bagel sandwich as he walked down to the shore, his thermos of tea warm in his other hand. 

He wandered for a while, no real destination in mind, until he found himself down by the shore. The water was calm and for a moment Chris contemplated stripping and taking a swim, but the chill in the air told him the water would be too cold. 

So instead he walked along the shore, enjoying the peacefulness. It was quiet, and Chris could see for miles over the still water. Which is why, when Chris was admiring the view, he noticed it - movement in the water less than a mile out. It was heading for shore, and it looked like a – tail? 

“The fuck…” Chris muttered. 

Whatever it was was making its way to the shore, heading towards the mostly hidden cove up ahead. It was hard to get to, but not impossible, and Chris was curious. So he made his way towards the cove, quickly finishing off his bagel and tea. 

It required a climb to get to the cove, so Chris left his thermos at the base of the rocks and started to carefully climb. He slipped twice, but made it successfully over the top. He looked down, wondering just _what_ had made its way there. 

He gaped. 

“Mark-?” 

Mark looked up, eyes wide, and his… oh god his _tail_ slapped against the water. 

“Chris!” Mark gasped. 

Chris stood abruptly, and the rocks slipped underneath him at the movement and he started to fall. The last glimpse Chris had of Mark before he slammed forward onto the rocks and fell was of Mark looking horrified as he pushed himself up towards the rocks, tail slowly staring to split. 

-

His head was _killing_ him. 

Chris groaned and tried to sit up, but a shooting pain in his arm stopped him. He cried out instead and collapsed back on the soft surface supporting him. 

“Chris! No, shit, wait, don’t try to move!” a panicked voice yelled. 

“M-Mark-?” 

“Yeah Chris, it’s me, are you-?” 

Chris slowly opened his eyes and blinked upwards. Mark hovered over him anxiously. 

“Chris? You with me?” 

Chris nodded slowly and then Mark _beamed_. 

“Oh good, your stupidity didn’t damage you too badly then.” 

Chris glared indignantly. 

“I’m sorry, stupidity?” 

“Yes stupidity!” Mark glared right back and smacked Chris’s shoulder – the uninjured one. 

“The fuck did you think you were doing, climbing the rocks like that?! Were you _trying_ to kill yourself? You should know how unstable those rocks are!” 

“Oh I’m sorry, I was a bit too preoccupied with the fact that I apparently saw a fuckin’ _mermaid_!” Chris shot back. 

The two of them glared at each other. 

“It’s merman,” Mark said suddenly, and Chris’s glare faltered. 

“What?” 

Mark’s glare intensified. “Mer _man_ ,” he stressed. “I’m not a fucking girl.” 

And oh, Chris would _not_ pass up an opportunity like that. 

Chris reached out and pressed his hand, very firmly, against Mark’s left pec before _slowly_ sliding it downward and following its path with his eyes. 

“Oh, trust me, I noticed,” and Chris didn’t know where this had come from, this confidence, but Mark was flushing and not pushing his hand away and _oh_ \- his heart just sped up. 

Chris flushed himself and pulled his hand back. 

“Sorry, I um-” 

Mark shook his head and sat down heavily on the bed. 

“No, no it’s fine, I-” 

They both fell silent, and Chris had no idea what to say. 

Mark was a merman. 

_Mark_. 

A _merman_. 

Mermen were _real_. 

Holy shit. 

“You never answered my question,” Mark spoke up. 

“Wha- oh,” Chris looked down at his arm, which started to throb the moment he refocused his attention on it. He frowned. 

“I think it’s fractured,” he pressed on it gently, feeling, and then winced at the pain, but it didn’t seem as bad as he first feared. 

“Or maybe just badly sprained,” he reevaluated, and Mark looked relieved. 

“My head, did I-?” Chris gestured, and Mark nodded. 

“You hit it, and there was a cut on your forehead but it stopped bleeding half-an-hour later. I cleaned it then bandaged it,” and Chris smiled at him as he reached up to feel the bandage. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Mark nodded then stood, a wide, _fake_ smile on his face. 

“Well, if you’re gonna be okay I’ll leave you alone, let you get some rest,” and then Mark started to back away, and that was when Chris realized he was in _his room_ , and Mark was in _his apartment_. 

And he was about to _leave_. 

“Wait!” he cried, and flung the covers back on his bed. Mark froze as Chris stumbled forward, blood rushing to his head dizzyingly. 

“Don’t go,” he whispered. 

“Chris,” Mark looked pained. 

“I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Chris swore, stumbling close enough to touch though he didn’t. “I _would never_ tell anyone, I swear Mark.” 

Mark stared at him silently, face infuriatingly expressionless (and seriously, _when_ did he learn to do that?). 

“You’re not the first person to say that,” Mark finally said, and Chris’s heart stopped even before Mark continued, “not even the first in your family. And when _they_ broke their _word_ ,” Mark spat, eyes narrowed, “ _my_ family paid the price, my _tribe_ , _slaughtered_ by humans. I was the only one to escape, and your parents made it very clear to me that the only reason they didn’t alert their _friends_ that I’d survived was that I was too _young_ ,” Mark laughed bitterly. 

Chris stumbled back, eyes wide, and felt such a violent disgust that he raced to the bathroom and barely made it before he threw up. 

“Oh god,” he sobbed, not wanting to believe it. 

Mark stood in the doorway and watched him, a sad expression on his face. 

“You really didn’t know,” he whispered. 

Chris shook his head and leant his head back over the toilet to throw up again. A light touch to his head made him shake, and then a warm hand was brushing the back of his neck soothingly. 

“I’m so sorry Mark,” he choked out, and the hand tightened momentarily before it drew away. 

“Me too.” 

And then Mark was gone, and Chris was alone.

**Author's Note:**

> find [this](http://rinnielove.tumblr.com/post/131919654966/high-tide-brought-you-in-currents-brought-you-out) on tumblr x


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